


Fallen

by CleverSnail



Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: Angst, Animal Death, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleverSnail/pseuds/CleverSnail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ficlet for the wonderful lastoneout (tumblr) who gave me the prompt:<br/>the first time GCBC sees Benny cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallen

Bad Cop stood, baffled, blinking into the sun on the steps of the precinct. Benny was never late for a lunch date. In fact, he was uncannily precise about time. This was unlike him, and Bad Cop was nervous. Bad Cop’s head spun with scenarios: flight accident, training mishap. So many ways for an astronaut to be hurt. Why hadn’t he insisted Benny make him his emergency medical contact? Stupid, stupid. He took the steps one at a time, slowly, scouring the sidewalk and the street, peering through the crowd for Benny.

_You’re overthinking this_. Good Cop pressed at the back of his mind. _You know there’s got to be a simpler explanation. Traffic? Bridge up? Flat tire?_

Bad Cop stepped down onto the sidewalk, looked hard right, hard left, sighed.

“You’re probably right.”

His eye suddenly caught a shock of blue against the station’s red sandstone. Benny. He was on a bench, half hidden by the landscaping along the side of the building. Staring down at his hands. Something not right.

Bad Cop headed over.

Benny was in his blue flight suit. It was training week, Bad Cop remembered. Benny loved training weeks with a passion, but they were difficult and incredibly stressful, full of continuous, complex, often nightmarish flight simulations designed to bring even a veteran astronaut to the very edge of his ability to cope and function.

Benny looked broken. His gaze was focused on a small object he held within a white handkerchief on his lap. A steady stream of people passed by in front of him on the sidewalk; he registered none of them.

“Ben?” Bad Cop moved closer, cautious now.

Benny looked up at the sound of his voice. His face was a landscape of pain. He’d been crying, hard.

Bad Cop drew up short, taken aback. He’d never seen Benny cry, had no idea how to proceed.

_Oh Ben._ A sigh came from within. _I’ll look after him, B._

Good Cop switched in. He settled down on the bench next to Benny, arm twining immediately around his shoulders, pressing him close. Benny was limp.

“Hiya Ben,” said Good Cop evenly, “How are you keeping?”

“Hi guys, hi G.,” Benny’s voice was raw, shaky. He cleared his throat, “Sorry ‘bout this. Sometimes stuff hits me hard.”

He nodded toward the handkerchief. Good Cop peered closely at the object Benny held. He started. It was a tiny dead bluebird. He felt the jolt of recognition from Bad Cop as well. The bird was so perfect and whole it could have been sleeping.

“Aw, no. Ben. The poor little mite.” Good Cop held Benny tighter, and at last felt him relax into his side.

“It’s a bluebird,” said Benny, studying the small soft body.

“I know, darling. Isn’t he beautiful.”

Benny sighed. It shook his frame. “He was just on the sidewalk, people stepping around him.” Benny looked up at the walls of the precinct. “I wonder if he flew into one of those windows. Knocked himself out. Broke his neck on the pavement.” Benny met Good Cop’s eyes. “I couldn’t leave him there. He deserves better, the brave little guy.”

Benny turned his gaze back to the bird.

“It’s not so much that flying’s dangerous,” he explained, “It’s the ground that’s the problem.”

His eyes were filling again. Good Cop kissed him impulsively on the temple, brushed fingertips across the back of his neck.

“I’ll be okay in a minute,” said Benny quietly.

Good Cop squeezed Benny’s shoulder, “Take all the time you need. We’re not going anywhere.”

A tear dropped onto the handkerchief.

Before them on the sidewalk, on the street, the tide of people never ceased. Places to go, appointments to keep. Unaware of the small tragedies unfolding in their midst; an astronaut on his knees in the dust, gathering up a limp-necked bird.

Benny hung his head and cried over the tiny form in his hands.

Two beautiful, broken bluebirds.


End file.
